The Blind Witch
by LissyWrites
Summary: The Witch is blind. She cries into the darkness, unsure of what has become of her world. Blind in life, and reborn blind again, the Witch has succumbed to her fate. That is, until the Hunter appears to show her the light.
1. Chapter 1

No one knows what it is like being the witch. She lives isolated, totally alone in her gray, once human shell. She hides herself behind claws, though she is unaware of them. She is unaware of everything.

When she became infected, she had thought it was a cure. This witch was special. This witch had been blind in life and still blind in her afterlife. She had no knowledge in her afterlife of what had happened to the world she knew.

She had no idea what she had become, what had become of her world, her family… and she had long since forgotten what happened to her thoughts. Now she had only words that ran like ticker-tape around her empty and pain-filled skull.

Pain. Yes, she knew that word. She felt it every day.

Sorrow. That one took longer to remember, but yes, this is one she most often associated with her pain.

Alone. This one left an empty pit in her stomach.

Dark. This one made her body run cold. She openly began to sob, not caring who or what heard. She needed to let the words out. She needed quiet. Her mind was always so _loud_.

There she remained, and she never left. She cursed her fate, if she remembered what fate meant, and if not, then she simply cried and moaned with a pain no one would ever understand.

Then, she saw a light. She had never seen light in life, and it scared her in death. Her pink glazed eyes shifted toward the ray, but all she could muster was a hiss. The being that had opened the door, slipped inside, dripping wet and in as much pain as the witch was.

The witch sat silently as the light disappeared, and the slam of a door locked it away. She listened carefully. Usually this place where she resided was always filled with her own voice, her sobs, her screams of sadness, and the terrible words that always seemed to claw through her mind, but now that she listened, she could hear soft and constant beats on the roof.

Rain. Yes, she remembered it. Though she couldn't say what it looked like, she remembered how it felt. _Wet_.

She heard shuffling around her, and instinctively she crushed herself as far into a corner as possible, protecting her back. She couldn't see the intruder, but she could at least protect her weak points.

She sat quietly, and so did whoever had appeared. They remained this way for much time, the intruder knowing good and well what was capable of this witch and where she was. The witch, however, had no idea where or what she was dealing with. She was completely useless in battle, and had never once tried it.

"W… wh-… who is th-… there?"

Her voice was rough, and painful even to her own ears. It was more suited toward growling or shrieking, which she was most accustomed to use it for. However, when her memory served her well, she could use it to speak. She spoke a language even she couldn't remember learning and simply knew it out of habit.

The intruder didn't respond. The witch could hear the intruder's feet shifting, and getting closer. She folded in on herself, hissing and doing her best to hide every part of her behind her claws, just in case it was an attack.

"W… witch."

She froze. Another being who could talk? She gazed out in front of her, squinting her eyes in hope that she could possibly see who had spoken to her, but she found nothing. The voice had been rough, animalistic, and essentially sounding much like hers. He was another… witch? This word stumped her. She assumed that was her name since it was directed at her, and she had no memory of any other title.

What this other being was, she had no clue, but she had never heard of anything like her before. She was willing to speak to it.

"Wi-… witch, yes… you?"

"Hunter."

Hunter. This word she remembered vaguely, something with guns, killing, and stealth.

She bared her claws. She didn't trust this word and the connotations associated with it.

"Killer?"

The Hunter shook his head, a movement the Witch was unable to see. The Witch took the silence as confirmation and proceeded to huddle in on herself and begin to sob. She had no way of knowing how the Hunter would kill her. She just prayed it be quick. Then, she felt hands on her face, cold and rough hands. She hissed and unfurled her claws, obviously missing her mark when the hands did not retract. Instead, she settled with crying into the other creature's hands as he raised her face up. She had claws, but she had no way of knowing she did, and she had no way to know how to use them.

"E-… eyes… pain?"

She nodded – an impulsive reflex to the question. He could now see her handicap. She was positive that he was going to kill her, knowing that she was completely useless and of no gain to him.

The Hunter released her face, allowing her head to droop back to its protected position. Then, she heard him shuffle, and hands and arms began wrapping themselves under her and lifting her off the ground. She struggled for an instance, but in the end all she could do was relax into the arms of the Hunter.

She felt him move with her across her residence, and with a loud bang the light flashed back into her impaired vision. She screeched and cinched her eyes, afraid the light would harm her. The Hunter continued to move with her, and she could soon feel the rain on her skin. _Cold. Soothing._

Those were good words. But she still didn't trust the light.

The Hunter stopped and jostled her. She refused to comply. He tried once more and this time added, "Eyes."

Finally, she opened her eyes. The world was even more blinding than before - this time painful. But the light soon cleared and was replaced with a soft and comfortable view, one she had never seen in life.

She gazed around frantically, having never had this ability before. She saw colors she couldn't put names to, ones she had failed to learn in life because of her handicap. It was beautiful and ugly all at the same time. Then, she took a moment to look at herself, the claws scaring her the most when she raised them up and they flashed like razor blades in the sun. Had she always had them?

She was scantily clad with a tattered top and shredded pants, she could only assume it was from her careless use of her newly discovered talons, and her skin was an odd shade. Were all humans this color?

Then, she looked at the Hunter. His skin was the same odd tone as hers and he wore a dark hoodie with long pants. She had never pictured a Hunter looking like him, but then again she had never seen anything before this day. He looked at her, his face partially hidden by the hood, and his clothes already drenched.

"Happy?"

Happy. The witch couldn't quite place this word, but it felt _warm_.

She nodded – though she still wasn't sure what that meant either. Her Hunter's lips turned up, it was slight, but the Witch remembered a word that described that little movement: smile. She tried the action out herself, but wasn't sure if it was carried out at smoothly as his.

The Hunter headed back toward her residence, but when he opened the door and began to go in, the Witch noticed it became harder to see. She shrieked and fought with him, now able to land a few blows with her new ability of sight. However, the Hunter held fast, shaking his head.

"Wait."

She calmed, trusting him, but still on red alert. He placed her on the floor and she scuttled as close to the opening of the door as possible, taking in what little light was filtering in. She noted that the longer she sat in darkness, the more her sight became impaired. Even as this creature, she still had a handicap.

Soon, the room was lit with a haze. She blinked past the initial blinding light and let her gaze rest on the Hunter, who was standing under some kind of illuminated bulb. He looked at her, or rather faced her. She couldn't be sure if he was looking at her or not with his face covered.

"Name?"

She blinked. Was Witch not her name? She silently stared at him, not sure how to go about asking if he had one or not.

He let out a loud sigh and dropped to the floor. She watched as he wrapped his arms around himself and curled up. She crawled across the floor to him, watching his form shiver.

"C- cold…"

Cold. Painful, shivering, and in need of warmth.

She nodded and pressed herself beside him. She carried no body heat, and neither did he but the idea of warming each other was better than nothing. It made them feel somewhat human, though the Witch had never known what being a human felt or looked like.


	2. Chapter 2

They remained close and leaning on one another for a long time, neither saying a word, but instead listening to each other breathe. It was silent. Finally, the Witch had peace. The words were beginning to fade with the constant breathing of the Hunter. But the silence wouldn't last for long.

There was another sound, much louder and much more prominent than either of the creatures' breathing. It sounded like steps, and there were many of them. Reflexively, the Witch cowered in on herself, all of the words in her mind making their way back to the forefront and matching the intensity of the steps. She had begun to sob when the Hunter growled,

"Quiet."

Quiet. She could do that, but the words in her mind wouldn't do the same. Biting her lip, she muffled most of her cries which seemed to satisfy the Hunter well enough. With the steps being the main sound, the Hunter crouched forward and toward the door. He went forward on all fours, swift, but blending in well with the darkness at the edge of the bulb's light. The Witch was frightened, more than she had ever been in her entire reborn life, but it was not for her. It was for her Hunter. She could barely make out his form in the dark, but she was almost positive she could see him pressed against the door. He was listening, but for what she wasn't sure.

Silence fell again, this time with a much louder, but steadier set of footsteps. The Witch knew there had been more, but this set scared her even more than the mass. This set was hunting, and for an instant, she guessed they were hunting her. She was sure the Hunter felt the same as his form went rigid, and he turned back toward her. His mouth opened to speak, just as the door was ripped open to reveal a dark silhouette on the other side.

The Witch began to shriek and attempt an attack, but the light was far too bright for her eyes to adjust quick enough. Before she was thrown back into the throes of the blinding light, she could make out her Hunter turning around to face the silhouette and the silhouette lifting something above its head. Something that gleamed in the light like a razor blade and the Witch was reminded of her claws. Panic struck and she was ready to tear through the blindness and just attempt any kind of attack. She had to protect her Hunter.

But before she could even take a step, she felt her Hunter's hand on her wrist. He tugged her around in the other direction with one word,

"Run."

And she did.

Though the Witch had been in that house since her change, she had never explored it beyond the foyer where she had always been. She didn't have the ability to recall the layout from her past life. Regardless, the Hunter seemed to have a better sense of direction than she ever could have, and he led her through the darkness without too much trouble. She couldn't see a thing, no other lights had been turned on, but the Hunter could see fine. She trusted the Hunter and instead focused on keeping her feet moving, but the sounds around her often caused her to stumble in fright.

The Hunter's breathing was steady and focused, but speeding up as each new room just led to another, then another, then another, with no end in sight. He was panicking, which only served to increase her panic. She could also hear the steps which had shown up earlier. There were others, but they were much farther away than the one set which only seemed to get closer and closer with every room they entered. The person was speaking, but the Witch wasn't sure who he was talking to.

"Kill. Gotta kill all of them."

Kill. The word bounced around in her head a few time and suddenly expanded. The word seemed to infect all of the other words, and they became similar in sound and intensity. They were painful, the most painful any word had ever been, and the Witch began to stumble again. She was no longer aware of anything, but that word and the sobs which clawed their way up her throat and out into the house around her. There was only one thing keeping her going, and that was the Hunter's hand gripping her wrist.

Though she had long since released her grip on his wrist, he held fast to hers, and there was no sign that he was letting go anytime soon. But she was weighing him down now, and she knew that _he _knew that.

"Let. Go."

The Hunter only growled in response as he ripped open another door and ran them through it. He wasn't going to let go, even if she caused them to be captured by the man with his painful words. He wasn't going to, and she didn't know why. She _had _to know why. So, she focused. She steadied her breathing and pushed herself forward, and when she did this, the Hunter's speed picked up, and the steps were becoming much more distant. There was one more door and then the darkness became light, blinding, but it was light. The light faded much quicker than before and the rain came down much harder. Though she could see the rain and the world around her, the rain wasn't making it easy, and she was getting tired of always being blind when she now knew she could see.

But even as they had made it outside, the Hunter continued to run. The Witch noticed the cuts and the open wound on the back of his head. The man had cut off the hood of his jacket which allowed the Witch to see his hair, a shaggy head of chestnut-color being matted down with blood from his wound. The Witch felt a twinge of panic once she saw the wound, but she had no time to dwell on it. Gun shots and and voices erupted from behind them as they ran, and the Witch could only peer back for a second, long enough to see a group of people with guns raised and blades hanging useless at their wielders' sides. Then, she saw the leader of the group. He stood ahead of everyone, blade pointed outward and following their path. He would remember them, she could tell, and she would make sure to remember him. They disappeared into a forest, and her view became all trees.

But even then they didn't stop running, and the Witch was glad for that. She squeezed the Hunter's wrist and continued on their path. She wasn't sure where they were going, and she wasn't completely sure that he did either, but she trusted him, and that was all that mattered.


	3. Chapter 3

The Witch and the Hunter ran until night fell, but the rain never let up. The Witch tried her best to remain calm, but with her sense of sight dulled once more, her nerves were mounting. But even as infected, they all had their limits, and the Hunter had reached his. His breathing was much more labored, and from what the Witch could see from the flashes of light between the trees, his head was glistening. Not with sweat, but with blood. His gash hadn't stopped bleeding since they had left.

When they did finally stop, it was because the Witch said so, not because the Hunter gave out. The Hunter would've probably kept going all the way into the night, no matter his injuries, but the Witch couldn't stand hearing his feet, once smooth steps, crunched into the ground, heavy and without much purpose. He was getting worse and worse the farther they traveled.

"Hunter. Stop now."

At first, the Hunter ignored her, and his steps became much more calculated, while his speed took a tole. Seizing the opportunity, she dug her heels into the ground, hissing as her naked heels took a beating from the underbrush. The Hunter fumbled, much less gracefully than he usually would have and even lost his grip on the Witch's wrist. He didn't fall, but he came close, and ended up in a dipped crouch. He turned back to growl at the Witch, but momentarily froze, along with the Witch as she caught his face in a flood of light.

What had it been called? Moonlight? She couldn't recall it right away, but at one time it had made her feel warm. But as her eyes studied the face of the Hunter, she could only be filled with dread. His face was marred with a never-ending lace pattern of scars. They had no real rhyme or reason, but they seemed to form some intricate pattern beyond the understanding of the Witch's mind. His lips were shredded, parts of the top lip hanging limply on the bottom lip. None of his face was more horrifying than his eyes, or rather, his lack of them. They were sockets, darker than the night that blurred the sides of his face, where the light didn't quite filter out. But where the tops of his cheeks were, laid two pulpy masses, which glimmered red and angry. The Witch had been blind since her change, but she couldn't imagine what the Hunter had seen before his eyes had been mutilated, and it wasn't just because she was unable to comprehend complex ideas.

She stepped toward him, and shuffled back, his form bleeding into the darkness. He was nothing more than a shadow, and he would eventually be nothing if he didn't come back into the light.

"Hunter. Come."

The Hunter growled, but remained in the darkness. The Witch tried again, adding a flourish.

"Hunter. Come. Please."

The Hunter remained silent for much longer than the Witch was comfortable with, but he did make his way back into the light. He stood much taller and straighter than before, his body rigid except for a slight lean he had on his left side, but for the most part, he was much more like the men the Witch remembered at her old home. She physically shivered, which caused the Hunter to wilt. She wasn't sure why.

Still, she made her way toward him, slow. She reached out with her hands, claws reflecting all the light that filtered, making them look unearthly beautiful. There was a feeling a feeling of warmth in the Witch's chest when the thought danced across her mind. The thought that something about her might be beautiful. But she was careful. She knew they could harm the Hunter, and she didn't want to harm him more than he already had been. She lifted her claws toward the sky and pressed each cold palm against his cheeks. They were rough to the touch, and she was reminded of something in her past life. She remembered feeling such a thing before, but she couldn't recall a name. It was infuriating, but when she saw her shimmering claws masking his eyes, she was reminded of something else. They were tears.

She wondered if the Hunter could cry, but she found the image to beautiful to question. The Hunter, on the other hand, was lost

"What you do, Witch?"

The Witch suddenly felt self-conscious. She knew what it was like to be blind, but the Hunter had feigned perfect vision since they met. It didn't make sense to her, and she found herself longing for the innocence of his hoodie.

"How? See?"

The Hunter's mouth moved slowly as he spoke, each word seemingly forcing its way out of his mauled mouth.

"No eyes. Mind. Mind's eye. See sound. See smell. See all. I am Hunter."

His description matched her former description of the word, "Hunter." He was stealthy, but he was so much more than that. He lifted his hands to grip hers, careful to avoid her claws.

"I see Witch. Witch always so sad."

The Witch wasn't sure how to respond, and instead focused on his hands holding onto hers. Even his hands felt rough, a detail she hadn't noticed before. She also wasn't sure if it was just her own imagination, but she felt both a heat rising in her cheeks, and a strange heat from his hands warming her hands. It didn't necessarily feel real, more nostalgic, like the flash of a memory across flesh. It was a lovely feeling, but the Witch did feel a dampening deep in her chest. A dampening of the heat, and the rising of tears. She wasn't sure why, but she cried, just as she did when she had been stuck in that house. The only difference was that the Hunter was there to take her in his arms. And while she feared his face, she did not fear his imaginary warmth and the warmth his touch rose to her chest. The memories were becoming much more powerful as the night went on, and the intensity had her wishing she could have known the Hunter before the change. Before, when all of the heat was real.


End file.
